


Calling Out To My Flesh and Bone

by TallysGreatestFan



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alien Sex, Light Angst, Masturbation, Other, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallysGreatestFan/pseuds/TallysGreatestFan
Summary: Hordak is used to his body interfering in everything he does. But not like this
Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 168





	Calling Out To My Flesh and Bone

He was used to his body interfering and interrupting absolutely everything he did, but not like this. As if Entraptas betrayal, the infiltration of his sanctum, Catra knowing his secret and generally the chaos all of this caused wouldn’t have been enough. Flares of his illness were dangerous and disruptive and exhausting, but at least he knew how to deal with them. This… this startled him, much lesser dangerous as it was.

He would sit over tactical papers or give orders to Force Captains and then some random detail would remind him… remind him of her. And as the sharp pain raced trough his heart, heat would pulse between his thighs, if only for a moment. He felt the gazes of his underlings even more clearly on him, and couldn’t expel the sick feeling that they must see in his expression that he was still lusting after the Princess who had betrayed them.

That was also something she had taught him, what this sensation actually was. The mere thought brought a flash of memory, her hands and hair all over his naked body, light brown skin against his dark blue and pale white. The musky scent of her desire. He expelled the thought, hoped he had breathed normal during it.

Force Captain Octavia looked just as concentrated and slightly scared as always, thankfully. He still was relieved as her report was over and he could work alone again. Only one hour, then the embarrassing mix of pain, longing and memories got so distracting that he had no choice but stop for today. He hissed frustrated. His body ached as he stood.

Sleep would fix this. Hopefully.

Taking the armor off felt as if the last bit of energy would have abruptly ripped from him, his body only a wrongly adjusted conglomerate of sore muscles, to heavy bones and pain. He sunk down on his bed, and even just this movement made him dizzy. As if this would not have been enough the pressure in his loins was back again, defying the absolutely exhausted rest of his body. This was getting out of hand.

With a streak of defiance, he remembered something he could do. Something she had taught him as well. He hesitated. Clones should not have these urges. It had been a mistake to do all of that with her, look where it had brought him. But here he was, exhausted and tired and with his body longing so clearly, and he had no power to fight back. Well, he would not think at her during that. He would only do the mechanical part, that would work as well, would it?

Already in the next thought however he had to betray that, because he needed the memory of that night she had taught him.

He somehow managed to ignore the tint of pain and betrayal and hate at himself, he should have know, that accompanied every memory of her, and vividly remembered how he looked up from kissing her breasts, startled by the wet sounds from further down. His cock throbbed in its place inside his body as he remembered how her fingers flipped over herself.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t wait anymore, you are just that good.”

He had been vaguely aware that this was also something one could do alone, but only in this moment he really realized it. There was something utterly fascinating about how sure she passed her fingers over herself, how good she knew what would make her gasp.

His cheeks had felt so hot, but he had said: “Continue… I… maybe I can learn something from it?”

As she was almost finished, she had gasped: “I want to see you as well.” It had felt so strange to touch himself in these ways only she ever touched him, even just thinking at it had felt strange, and it still did.

“I… I don’t know how… I never…”

“You never masturbated?”, she sounded honestly shocked. His cheeks burned so hot it hurt.

“Oh Hordak, that’s… I mean it could be that you don’t like it and that’s okay, but I think it is a part of how your body works and its important to know how it functions.”

“Why? I don’t think that this is useful in a battle.”

She had laughed at that. “No, but sometimes knowledge from one side area later proves useful for something important else. And I want you to know how to deal with your urges when you are alone. This is part of you, and you deserve to know yourself.” Had she already known at this point? Had she really cared about him, wanted to prepare him, at least in this tiny area?

No, that was a dangerous thought. He pushed it away. But he couldn’t help but hear her voice as he hesitately pushed his hand under his nightgown: “Think of what feels good when I touch you. And then do that with your own hands.”

His thighs tingled where his fingernails traced his skin. More throbbing. He reached his groin, the opening there. He had never really been aware of how soft his skin was there. Had Entrapta ever said something about that? No, don’t think about her, don’t remember.

It felt good. So good that he now definitely felt as if he had to continue. He followed the forms further up, traced over the smoother, harder form of his already slightly emerged cock. A shock of pleasure. He gasped.

Experimentally, he traced over the tip again. _Oh_. Oh, that felt so good.

He kept touching himself there, coaxed himself out. The throbbing got stronger, and soon he found himself panting.

He moved his hand up and down his full length, and oh, how had he actually been able to not do that for so long? He couldn’t help but to imagine it were Entraptas hands around him, see that hungry expression that had turned him on so much on her face. No, don’t think at her. But even with the pleasure jolting trough him, it was hard to not remember her.

Maybe try to overlay the memories, just like as in data storage an file was not fully gone until the space where it had been deleted from had been overlayed with something else?

He had only one single time apart from Entrapta felt sexual attraction to someone, and he had not even been aware of what that was at this point.

He tried to remember how he had looked at Arvill, his late first officer, his torso bare as he had cleaned himself after a battle right in the first years of the Horde. Back then he had just thought he would found the forms and color of his body fascinating, nothing more. He tried to imagine him leaning over him, that it was his hand around his cock, not his own.

But it had been so long. Nearly twenty years. All he could remember were so vague shapes in light brown and the darker brown of his mane; that he had been something between stocky and wiry and that he had been one of the deer people of Etheria.

How would it have felt to feel another man against him, his erection against his own? (If he would have found him desirable at all for some reason, a part of him interrupted).

A wave of pleasure trough him, letting him gasp.

But it was not as strong as when he had remembered Entrapta (don’t think about her).

His pleasure increased as he continued touching himself and tried to get lost in the fake-memories he conjured, of his soldiers body against his and hands on his thighs and sex and lips on his throat. But somehow, it got mixed up with the much more clear memory of Entrapta. How her lean muscles shifted under olive brown skin, the soft curves of her body. How firm and yet soft she had felt like. The silk of her hair, cool and yet alive.

A flash of how her neck had felt like against his lips, of the soft, gasping sounds she made and how she pressed her body against him, her hair tight against his upper arm.

A hot shock went through his body, so strong that it was completely surprising. His cheeks felt too hot.

He allowed himself to remember how he had taken her small breasts in his hands. He was fascinated in how they felt, full and yet supple, and they filled his hands perfectly. Her nipples were so soft, soft and enlarged, as he leaned down and took them in his mouth, licked. He had loved that. Loved the breathless little sounds she made. (Had she just played that? She must have, why would anybody ever find him attractive?) Just for a moment he imagined that she had loved it just as much to kiss his chest and nipples, sent shivers of electricity trough his body.

He couldn’t help but imagine that she liked seeing him shiver and squirm like that.

He felt heat pulse trough him as he pictured how she had him fully under her mercy like this, and that it indeed turned her on. As he laid there, hands on his cock, so hard, so damn hard, body arched towards imaginary her, lips parted, he could almost feel her gaze.

The idea that he had ever been attractive for her felt absolutely ridiculous, but somehow he managed to imagine that he was, and started playing with her non-existent gaze. He modulated his gasps and moans and growls to how he thought she would like most, spread his thighs in a gesture that showed that this was all hers. The thought that she now would have full control over him sent shivers of lust trough him. (So pathetic, so damn pathetic).

She would take his hand, then, while she continued to stroke him, push it into the hot wetness between her legs. He moaned as he remembered how it felt like, and stroke himself harder.

It had been such a strange idea to him, that she felt like this because she was desiring him this much, that her body did that because of him, but it never failed to make him shudder in lust. Were people able to fake that, or had at least that been real?

He remembered every detail of her vulva, the curly purple hair over her pubic mound and labia, how her folds shimmered with her wetness. He didn’t quite understand how he found it as beautiful as he did, it did not fit with any rules about aesthetic he knew, any yet the image made him shiver with desire. He would flip his fingers over her clitoris – he could clearly remember how it felt like -, make Entrapta arch and moan. She would rock her hips against his fingers as he stroke.

He wondered how she would have tasted like. He was not sure if this was a normal thing to do, and so he had never dared to ask, but he imagined that kissing her there would have been wonderful.

There was an strange ache in his heart at that memory. He needed her. Needed her right now, in more ways than just the sexual.

He tried to push the feeling aside, and only concentrated once more on the building pressure between his legs. He was panting now, and getting lightheaded. He was close.

She would close her hand tighter around him, flip her fingers of the other hand over his glans, make him whimper. And he would let his fingers slid into her. Wet and so soft and alive around him. A hot shudder trough his cock. He almost thought he would come right now.

He would thrust his fingers inside her, bend them as she had showed him, to stimulate that spot inside her that made her feel so good. He could almost feel her tighten around him, how her walls moved against his fingers.

They had never tried vaginal penetration. The things they did with their hands seemed so wonderful already, it just hadn’t seemed necessary. Now he wished they had.

He imagined her straddling his hips, proud and queenly, how it would feel like to have her around him, her hot, wonderful body. Instinctively he thrust his hips up. Oh, she would take him softly, moving her hips back and forth, her purple hair and brown skin against his blue and white. He was hers. (The thought made him whimper, an longing, pathetic sound).

He imagined her throneing over him, how her breasts shook with her faster and faster movement. Her hands and hair moved all over his chest and neck and arms.

Pleasure rose so high in him that he had trouble getting enough air, but he didn’t wanted to stop, couldn’t stop.

Ever stroke shook hot waves trough him.

The picture of how Entrapta looked so close to climax came to his mind. Her cheeks and the area under her collar bone reddened, her chest rising and falling in flat pants, hair shivering, all muscles tense. She would feel so wet and hot. Slickness glistering on her folds. Slickness under his fingers and over her clitoris.

He felt it approaching.

He saw her in front of him, how she arched her head back, the beautiful sound she made, how her juices spilled out of her and gushed on the bed.

This was it. A shock of pleasure trough his body, so strong that he couldn’t move, couldn’t stop, could only groan and arch his body up and shiver. It seemed to go on so long.

Somewhen, it was over, and he collapsed, whimpering. Only now he realized that his hands quivered and his lower arms hurt from the effort. He stretched them out beside him, and stared at the ceiling as he waited to catch his breath again.

He was still fully clean, dry, and glad about that, because he would not have to clean himself up. He was vaguely aware that it should be the other way around, with the man spilling out and the woman not, but Horde Prime had breed that ability out of his clones long ago.

The aching emptiness of her betrayal was still there, but now he was so exhausted that he would surely be able to sleep nevertheless. And at least that distracting urge was gone and replaced with an pleasant warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone complained that there are to less Hordak solo fics, I thought I change that
> 
> As always, please comment, comment length does not matter, even one word makes me happy


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